Page 23 of A Twist of Faith
She needed to buy stock in honeybees.
“I look forward to sharing all the opportunities we’ll provide to the people in rural Appalachia. I’m certain Charlottesville will be impressed.” She focused her attention on Rainey, hoping her efforts to make amends might be noted. “I know I can learn a lot from you all.” She’d make a note to apologize in person later, after she hid in shame for three days. “Thank you for your offer.”
The meeting moved forward with the comfort of nails on a chalkboard, but besides Dr. Russell, the other faculty members seemed pleasant at most, indifferent at least. Except for the gnawing look of disappointment on Rainey’s face, and the deeper root of it in Dee’s heart.
She bit her bottom lip and kept a firm stare on the screen of her laptop. No wonder she’d never kept friendships long enough to develop the depth of intimacy evident in Lizzie Simpkins and Rainey Mitchell’s. Pain knifed straight to her heart. Another pinch of failure—no, this was more like a slap. Maybe she didn’t know how to make friends—or at least keep them very long.
She ached through final discussions of courses, start dates, and menial administrative changes. When Dr. Russell reiterated the importance of clinic numbers, the Chair’s gaze shot Dee an exclamation point.
The whole population of Ransom, Virginia, could benefit from accent modification therapy, but she doubted volunteers waited at her door to sign up. The thought of working with children added another item to her list of reasons to leave Ransom and another kick to her self-confidence. Children didn’t like her. Lou Mitchell’s sweet face popped to mind, unbidden.
Okay, maybe there was one very small and cute exception. But only one.
Dee slipped from the room as soon as the meeting adjourned, without one glance at her colleagues to confirm her humiliation. She sprinted a direct path to her office at an Olympian speed-walker pace.
“Dr. Roseland.”
The commanding voice brought her to a stop in the middle of the hallway. She drew in a deep breath for strength and made a slow turn to face Dr. Shaye Russell. “Yes, Dr. Russell?”
The woman folded her hands in front of her and offered a tight smile along with a piece of paper. “I have askedMs. Mitchell and Dr. Simpkins to make a list of possible contacts for you to build a clientele.”
There was no mistaking her emphasis on theMs. part. The seed of panic blossomed into sweaty palms. Dee took the piece of paper and tried to return her smile, tight and all. “Thank you.”
“I’m certain you want to keep Charlottesville’s opinion of you very high, since you wish to return there as soon as you can.”
Dee drew in a quick breath at the sting.
“But remember, Dr. Roseland, your promotion to Charlottesville has as much to do with my recommendation of you as it does with your skills.Team playersimpress me.Team playerswho care about the welfare of the clients and students we serve, and not just their own advancement in academia.”
“Of course. I’m sorry I—”
“You’d do well to take your position as, not only a superior, but as aserviceprovider into serious consideration.”
Dr. Russell left the comment hanging in the air as she turned and disappeared down the hall. Dee’s morning had taken an impressive downward spiral from Ma Mitchell’s delicious blueberry muffin and it was only ten a.m. No amount of rocket-ship underpants could fix this mountain of self-inflicted trouble. She pressed a hand to her forehead to stay the tears.
The warmth in Reese’s conversations, the welcome in Rainey’s eyes, all encouraged her to lower the carefully constructed wall around her heart and trust them. A piece of her craved it. Another part, the one scarred with a million painful memories, trembled with the possibility of being wounded all over again.
Her mind drifted to her father. Empty evenings with her brother, night after night, sent an uncomfortable wave of doubt. She’d created herself into a person quite capable of living alone—safe from the disappointment and pain of others. But did she want that empty childhood to turn into a lonely adulthood?
Her heart squeezed a resounding no.
She fisted the list in her hand—a list with about six contacts Rainey Mitchell helped develop.
TheRaineyshe’d offended.
What a way to start off her school year.
The consistent swingof the axe set a rhythm for Reese’s thoughts—slow and steady, working through the kinks of the wood. Things looked up for his family. Trigg even helped with the feeding that morning, confirming the doctor’s latest report. His brother was getting better. Stronger. A few more months and he could be as good as new—nearly, except for a few adjustments to his plans of having a family.
More than an older brother, Trigg was Reese’s best friend, but neither proved ready or willing to talk about those modifications to Trigg’s future yet. Reese stopped chopping and glanced up at the sky. God knew how much he loved his brother—enough to give up his dreams and return home, but how could God fix this one? It hit at the core of a man.
And the endless medical bills? Reese wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and glanced out over the pasture toward his brother’s house, barely visible beyond the tree line. Insurance was pricey for a farmer, and a year of treatments added up big time.
He had to put his best foot forward for this Chicago job.
Had to. Even if it meant accent modification sessions with Dr. “Ain’t is not a word” Roseland.
He rubbed the back of his aching neck and looked over at his grandpa’s house. Dim sunlight skittered over the horizon and framed his grandpa’s house in an orange glow. A haven for travelers, his mom called it. His thoughts drifted to the dark-haired professor. She sure did work long hours. About as long as him.
